


Hagurumahaki

by Rein_Deilerd



Category: Hercules: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rein_Deilerd/pseuds/Rein_Deilerd
Summary: Icarus is not well, and his friends begin to worry. A very strange evening follows for him and Cassandra.
Relationships: Icarus (Disney)/Cassandra (Disney: Hercules)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Hagurumahaki

**Author's Note:**

> The fic was originally written in Russian (by me) and translated into English (by me). This is my very first time posting a creative writing piece in English, and I am very sorry for all the mistakes I've made, as well as for making Icarus suffer. This is a very freeform interpretation of hanahaki, which I have never written about before; I tried to make it fit the character, as well as added some personal touches. Huge thanks to afrocelt22 on Tumblr for motivating me to translate this little piece!

Something was wrong. Definitely so. Cassandra could feel it in the air as soon as she entered the school building; the loud hallways and the rows of rusty lockers, the drinking fountains across the walls and the faces of students who haven’t noticed anything yet, everything was permeated with a sticky, loud, almost deafeningly dense atmosphere. It didn’t feel like a premonition (she would have guessed, it’s not like she was cursed yesterday), more like a sharp sting of intuition. Something was wrong. Not with her. With the world around her.

Questioning herself, Cassandra took a look at her right palm, tracing every line with her eyes. It wasn’t a dream. The morning before seemed perfectly ordinary too, not like something you’d see in a dream, even if you really wanted to. She felt out of place the second she walked into school, which meant the danger was lurking somewhere in the building. She should find Hercules. Maybe even Icarus, but that’s not necessary (like, at all, if only out of politeness).

She found Hercules pretty soon; he was next to his locker, organizing his scrolls, lost in thought. He didn’t notice his friend right away – but when he did, his reaction was perfectly ordinary, as if there was no danger looming over the school.

“Oh, hi there,” – his voice sounded a bit off due to how sleepy he was, but not off enough to warrant worrying, - “Have you seen Icarus? I’ve been looking for him since Friday.”

“I haven’t, thankfully,” – Cassandra replied, smiling sarcastically; she was beginning to calm down a little, – “You wanted to copy each other’s homework or something?”

“No, we just… Oh, look, there he is! Hey, Icarus!” – Hercules waved to his right cheerfully, and Cassandra mentally prepared herself for the worst. The worst did not commence.

Instead of hugs and happy squealing, Icarus greeted his friends with something that barely looked like a smile; it was more like a painful grimace, filled with tiredness, not his usual cheerful demeanor. His tanned face was paler than usual, too, and there were dark bags underneath his eyes – as if he hadn’t slept for a night or two beforehand. He raised his hand in a weak greeting and approached his friends, trying his best to look like someone who is not going to faint right in the middle of the hall – his attempt was not very convincing.

“Icarus!” – a look of shock appeared on Hercules’s face, - “What’s wrong?! Are you okay?”

“Of course,” – Icarus smiled wider, which only made him look sicker, - “I’m just a little bit tired, strung out, you know how it gets sometimes.” – he laughed a little, as if trying to imitate his usual carefree attitude. This only got his friend more worried.

“Maybe you should go to the doctor? You don’t look well.”

“No need to,” – Icarus brushed him away, as if not noticing the genuine worry in Hercules’s voice – “I can always snooze a bit during class, haha.”

“As you wish, but my invitation still stands,” – Hercules said, his friend’s answers clearly did not make him any calmer. Cassandra shrugged; she was not about to persuade him as well. Everyone has their bad days, including reckless balls of energy. Nothing wrong with that, she thought – and tried her best to bury the thought that sprung into her head at that moment. Her premonitions never concerned someone getting a cold or a bout of insomnia before. Icarus turned towards the classroom door and walked past her, as if not noticing her at all; their hands touched for a moment, making Cassandra flinch. Icarus’s hand was as cold as steel.

Something was wrong.

She couldn’t concentrate during class, glancing at Icarus from time to time. He was sitting unnaturally upright, flinching from time to time, as if trying not to fall asleep. When the teacher called out his name and tried to get an answer for a fairly easy question out of him, he stumbled upon words and couldn’t conjugate a simple verb, which resulted in a few laughs among the class and the teacher’s righteous anger. After his five minutes of shame had passed, Icarus threw himself onto the chair, relaxing for a moment – then rose up, his entire body flinching, and run out of the class, covering his mouth. He returned about five minutes later, head sunken into shoulders, eyes hidden from his classmates, including Hercules and Cassandra. He looked like a beaten-up puppy. Cassandra and Hercules looked at each other, identical concern on their faces.

The situation repeated itself during next two lessons; the teachers did not pay too much attention to the student suddenly disappearing from class, while some classmates, quietly or not, cracked hungover-related jokes at Icarus’s back when he invariably returned to his seat. Someone especially asinine threw in a morning sickness joke and received a stare from Cassandra that was so full of disdain, he had to retreat into the back of his seat. Meanwhile, Hercules, it seemed, didn’t notice anything but his friend’s miserable state, and was paying no attention to the whispers circulating among the class. An understandable reaction.

They couldn’t find Icarus during lunch break, and he seemed to have disappeared entirely after the last lesson had ended; Cassandra and Hercules had searched the entire school in vain.

“He must have gone home,” – Hercules concluded tiredly after their fruitless search, his back against the wall; him and Cassandra were standing in the middle of the schoolyard and giving gloomy looks to the lead-covered sky. The feeling of a storm coming was weighing upon them more than it usually would; both could feel a foggy yet touchable sense of dread.

“I have to go train, Phil asked me not to be late today,” – Hercules was looking Cassandra straight in the eye, with guilt in his voice; he was clearly ashamed of what he was about to say, - “Look for him in my stead, okay? Just to know that he’s okay. Make him go to the doctor if you can. If there is anyone who can get through to him, that’s you.”

Cassandra sighed.

“I’ve been trying to get through to him about not being his girlfriend for years now, no use, as you can see,” – a sarcastic smile blossomed on Cassandra’s face, a habit more than anything. She suddenly remembered, without really meaning to, just how cold Icarus has been towards her today, and it made her flinch – either from the cold or from realizing just how wrong it felt. Hercules was right, she must find him.

“Sure, you can go. I’ll think of something.”

Cassandra waited for her friend to walk away, gazed upon the schoolyard and calculated her chances of finding a hyperactive needle in the hay. They had searched everywhere inside the school, but not outside. Thankfully, Cassandra had a few ideas.

The first couple of places yielded no results, but the third one – a small dark space between two warehouses, where no one ever wondered – turned out to be the right spot: Icarus, the one and only, was standing there facing the wall of one of the warehouses, with his stretched-out hand on the wall supporting his weight. He was breathing heavily, staring into the distance; there was something shining beneath his feet, but Cassandra couldn’t make out just what it was.

“Hey,” – she called out nervously, taking a couple of uneasy steps in his direction. He turned to face her in a jittery manner, still staring into nothing; this sight made Cassandra shudder. – “How are you, Icarus? We’ve been looking all over for you…”

“I’m fine,” – he answered with an unnatural, coarse voice, - “I was just about to head home, what about you? We could go toge…” – he fell quiet suddenly; a wave of shivers ran down his body. Reacting faster than she could access the situation, Cassandra closed the gap between them in a few hurried steps and managed to see the way Icarus’s pupils dilated, as if he was in a panic; he shivered again, and this time the spasm made him bend down in a way that left him facing the ground. His mouth opened in a silent scream, but instead of sound, a thin trail of saliva trickled down his chin, and then…

Cassandra was witnessing a scene that wouldn’t be out of place in a surreal dream; her prided cold-bloodedness was only enough to keep her from looking away. Small shiny things were falling onto the ground, hitting each other with a “cling” noise; they ranged in size from a coin to a clip on a toga. Some appeared to be made from silver, some from copper, a few were black; they were forced out in small groups, along with sounds of choking and moaning from Icarus. At one point he began coughing, as if unable to breathe, and threw up an entire handful of small shiny objects; after hitting the ground, a couple of them rolled underneath Cassandra’s feet, making her take a reflexive step back. Like tiny black bugs, they seemed to be laughing at her: come on, tell yourself it’s a dream. We are real. Touch us.

The stream of shiny objects was slowly dying down; finally, Icarus spat out the last golden disc and began to straighten his back little by little, while trying to catch his breath at the same time. Saliva was still dribbling down his chin, a lonely tear was running down his right cheek, the one which Cassandra was facing. It was then that Cassandra noticed just how unsteady her friend’s feet were; she was ready to catch him mid-fall at any moment, but a primordial fear which clutched her entire being needed her to make sure the danger’s gone first. After the fear, there came confusion. Along with it, came back her ability to speak.

“What was that, Hades damn it?” – Cassandra was whispering more than asking, speaking to no one in particular. However, Icarus, who had finally let go of the wall, was facing her once again; his eyes were not glassy anymore.

“I can explain! At least, in theory…” – he stuttered, looking at the shining pile of discs beneath his feet, - “I know it’s gross, but not contagious, I swear! If you want, we can come to my place, then I’ll…” – he went quiet again, his face distorted, but this time no spasms followed – tiny drops of sweat formed on his forehead, and that was it. Cassandra hadn’t even noticed before that she was standing so close to Icarus, she could see each individual drop; she also couldn’t help but notice how dirty his face had become.

“Here,” – she offered him a handkerchief which had been coincidentally lying in her pocket, - “Fine, I’ll visit you if you insist. But make note that I’ll require an explanation. You can keep the handkerchief,” – she warned, but Icarus, who was tearfully clutching the napkin to his chest instead of using it to clean his face, was clearly not going to give it back anyway. Cassandra felt a little bit better; she was finally recognizing the usual Icarus. It was too early to celebrate, though, and the metallic shine beneath her feet reminded her of it. Cassandra had a bad feeling about it.

Icarus’s room turned out to be about as crammed with stuff as Cassandra expected; there were lenses installed into tubes made out of different metals which pierced her with their gazes from every corner of the room, yellow splotches of torn-up scrolls were littering the floor, and, in order to reach the chair which Icarus graciously offered her, she had to navigate a bunch of little tables filled with contraptions she hadn’t seen before. Icarus sat himself onto a bed; he looked a bit better than he did at school, he was even smiling rather naturally; still, his tunic was wet from sweat, and his hands were shaking. Cassandra wondered if not even a near-death state could make Icarus stop enjoying her presence in his room.

She took a deep breath and looked at Icarus as strictly as she could. He smiled an innocent smile back at her, completely missing her mood.  


“Fine, now, tell me. What’s wrong with you? What are these things?”

Icarus didn’t answer. His smile slowly disappeared from his face, replaced with a look of complete cluelessness.

“You haven’t just swallowed them all, have you?”

“No.” – he answered finally, - “They appear on their own, somewhere inside me. Then they come out whenever they please.”

“How long has it been happening?” – Cassandra’s voice stayed absolutely serious and calm, yet her hands were getting unusually cold.

“Since Friday. I…” – he stopped speaking, as if gathering his courage, - “I was conducting a little experiment, and something went wrong. Can’t say anything more, not like it’s important. It is what it is.”

“So, you did this to yourself…” – Cassandra didn’t mean to raise her voice, it happened on its own, it seemed, - “How am I supposed to react here?! Does Daedalus know, at least? What did he say?”

“Don’t tell Dadalus!” – Icarus panicked, momentarily losing his balance on the corner of the bed, - “He won’t forgive me if he finds out.” – he fell quiet for a moment, - “I think it will stop on its own. Eventually. I’m almost used to it by now.’

Suddenly, Icarus stood up and rushed towards one of the drawers and, after searching for a short while, pulled out a handful of shiny objects.  


“Here, check them out. Don’t worry, I’ve washed them.”

Feeling unsure, Cassandra accepted the unknown objects from her friend’s hands. They were, indeed, small discs made of metal; they were jagged, with small notches circling them on the outside and a small round hole in the center.

“What are they, anyway?” – Cassandra asked, fidgeting with one of the unknown things in her hand.

“They are called cogwheels. They are very useful, actually, you can put them to work in many ways. I did not gather all of them, but I still have enough, an entire drawer already…” – Icarus’s voice sounded happy, almost proudly so. This was the last straw for Cassandra.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done?!” – she screamed, standing up suddenly, - “You did Gods know what to your body, and have the gall to be happy about it! Look at yourself, you look worse than ever! Can you even eat or sleep like that?!”

“Well…” – Icarus backed away, not expecting such a reaction, he crawled completely onto the bed and ran into the wall with his back, - “I couldn’t really sleep since, had to vomit in the middle of the night. The food is also a problem – it only makes things worse. I felt a little bit better yesterday, and even decided to go to school, but this morning it started again…” – Icarus went quiet again, avoiding Cassandra’s glance. He seemed to have finally begun to recognize the weight of the situation he’s plunged himself into, - “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

“You sure did!” – Cassandra screamed, glad she had finally been heard, - “We are coming to see Daedalus this very instant, you confess what an absolute fool you are, and we figure something out together. We can get Hippocrates to examine you, he must have some experience with stuff like this, he will think of something, but for now…”

Cassandra didn’t have time to finish her sentence once she noticed Icarus’s face distorting. All of his muscles tensed at once; his body was shaking again. Cassandra realized what was about to happen, and so did Icarus, it seemed – he jumped off the bed and, his movements barely coordinated, ran towards the door. The spasm got him in the middle of the room – he fell on all fours, his back arched, eyes rolled back, showing the whites covered in red blood vessels. Without realizing what she’s doing, Cassandra fell onto her knees next to him and put her hand on his back, hoping to ease his tension just a bit by gentle rubbing; his back was hard as a rock, his wet tunic sticking to his body. Out came a guttural, roar-like moan; a torrent of shiny cogwheels came down from his mouth, with black spots in between; Cassandra couldn’t tell what those were, and she wasn’t trying to. She was much more worried about Icarus himself: tears were flowing down his face, his body shaking, his hair falling down his face and making the mess even worse. Cassandra had no idea how to help him, so she just kept rubbing his back, hoping for the vomiting to end soon; it seemed worse than before.

Time appeared to be stretched into infinity, and Cassandra seemed to have become disconnected from reality at some point, hypnotized by the shine of the cogwheels scattered on the floor. She only came to her senses once she heard Icarus moan; he seemed to have stopped throwing up cogwheels and was now shaking uncontrollably, hugging his knees; his reddish eyes were watering, his breathing hard and unsteady. At one point he tried to stand up again, but almost fell back down, clutching his stomach; his face was distorted again, this time from pain.

“What, what’s wrong?!” – Cassandra could hear her own voice as if it was coming from a distance.

“My stomach…” – Icarus moaned, still hunched over. Cassandra glanced at the pile of cogwheels on the floor, almost expecting them to be smeared with blood; there was none, however. That was a good sign.

She helped Icarus to stand up, supporting him by his shoulders; their height difference suddenly came in handy. She guided him to his bed and helped him to lie down; he was quiet, but his inflamed eyes were looking at her with gratitude and warmth.

“Wait here, I’ll get you some water,” – without waiting for an answer, Cassandra hurried up to the kitchen, which she noticed when first entering the inventors’ home, and returned with an amphora; Icarus gratefully accepted it and began drinking in small jittery gulps. Cassandra helped him hold the amphora.

“Feeling better yet?” – she asked once Icarus was finally done drinking. He nodded weakly, still clutching his stomach with one hand. Her heart stung from seeing him be so helpless; his entire body spoke of wanting more from her, not just some help with drinking.

“Should I hug you or something?” – Cassandra asked sarcastically, trying to appear confident. Icarus’s mismatched eyes gazed straight at her.

“Yes.”

Cassandra was taken aback for a moment, not expecting such a direct answer, but something inside of her made her listen to him; reaching towards the guy lying on the bed, she carefully twisted her arms around his shoulders and hugged his scrawny body close to herself. It felt weird: Icarus has hugged her many times before, yet she had never hugged him. Through the thin fabric of his tunic, she could feel his ribcage; his back turned out to be hot, his heart beating unnaturally fast. This made Cassandra’s own heart skip a beat; she pulled away, afraid of feeling it again. Icarus did not hold her back – a weak smile appeared on his face, his gaze drifting somewhere far away from here. He looked like a child, frail and in need of protection; Cassandra’s heart fluttered.

“Hug him again. You want this,” – the Muses sang inside her head.

“Not happening. Away with you, wretched beings,” – Cassandra replied internally.

She stayed on the bed with him instead; two teenagers were sitting still as statues, without talking or even looking at each other. Simply feeling someone by your side turned out to be good enough. Time got sticky and was pulling itself forward slowly, but not painfully so – Cassandra was even surprised at how calm she was after such a stressful day.

Somewhere inside the house, a door squeaked while closing.

“Dadalus’s back,” – Icarus said softly.

“We will go and tell him everything,”- Cassandra answered.

Icarus didn’t argue.

Icarus was absent from school for a week; nobody seemed to notice his absence aside from Hercules and Cassandra, who already knew more than others did on the matter, even if they didn’t know everything. Icarus asked Cassandra to leave once they told a flabbergasted Daedalus that there is something they have to discuss; she decided to trust Icarus and let him speak to his father in private. It seems that the conversation has had its effect; for the entire week Daedalus was gloomy while conducting his lessons, refused to let anyone into his house, yet occasionally sent looks full of gratitude towards Cassandra. Neither her nor Hercules gathered enough courage to approach him and ask him anything directly.

They were beginning to get really worried, but then Icarus finally appeared in school, refreshed and full of energy; nothing reminding others of him being sick recently. The first thing he did was to give Hercules and Cassandra the biggest hug, squealing about missing them so, so much; Hercules hugged him just as enthusiastically and even spun Icarus in the air as if he weighed nothing; Cassandra kept her cool during the friendship avalanche, but couldn’t hide her smile. Icarus was as active as ever; on the very first day he managed to drive the teachers insane with his questions, to accidentally push a plate of food onto Adonis’s new tunic, and to piss Cassandra off with his unending affection. However, after spending a week away from him, Casandra found it to be much more bearable and almost didn’t stare him down in anger.

At the end of the day, after following Hercules to the school’s gates, Cassandra was about to head home herself when Icarus approached her, out of breath from running yet happy; with no warning, he grabbed both of her hands and shook them with feeling.

“Thank you,” – he was almost shouting, - “Just, thank you!” – then he turned around and disappeared as suddenly as he came, clearly about to cause trouble somewhere. Cassandra was left standing next to the gates, looking at the clear blue skies above; a genuine smile warming her lips.

Icarus’s hands were warm, almost hot.

Everything was fine.


End file.
